Saturday, 28 April 2012

Post AIEEE After-party

Amarillo todas las....

So apparently, with the AIEEE B.Arch. exam tomorrow dangling over my head, I realised it a couple of weeks back that maybe, just maybe, I won't make it to SPA Delhi. Vijaywada or Bhopal might happen; but then SPA Delhi is SPA Delhi any day! I thought of leaving out Math and perfect my Aptitude and drawing, but even if I do so, I will be needing some assistance from Math to boost my rank a bit. 
But hey! I still have NATA, which is apparently not happening till the end of May. 
I thought of re-accomplishing certain things after the Boards which I was clearly unable of, courtesy the entrance exam! 
I really want to, 

1) Go shopping. Enough of being a lazy ass and deny the pleasure of it just for the sake that it irks me! I need to expand that stilletoes collection of mine! And what I need is a couple of dresses too! You might want to see this!
2) Prepare an utterly-butterly cute gift for my best friend Himani's eighteenth this Tuesday! And also write out a lamba-chauda chhittha on my blog for her! Sigh! So much for a friend who's as equal a nautanki as you!
3) Since there'll be no Math for NATA, kick the paper and get myself another option of a decent Architectural College.
4) I promised of getting back to my painting post the Boards, but couldn't do so! I want to sway my brush yet again and create magic! I desperately want to get back to knife painting; it's the best thing that can happen to any painter.
5) Pull down my dear guitar from the loft, sift away its dirt and start playing again.
6) GET A FUCKING DSLR AND FULFIL MY GODDAMN HOBBY WHICH I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF SINCE WHAT TENTH GRADE?!!!???!!!!!
7) Fulfil my promise to my friends to tour each and every fort of the city.
8) Start donating blood and visit an orphanage religiously!
9) Go on a campus-yatra with Monika. I mean, hey! I had Economics too, and so is the option of Eco(Hons.) as my back-up career option.
10) Prepare a mind-blasting gift for my parents for their TWENTIETH anniversary this Saturday! 
11) Compensate for all the time I neglected my friends this past month due to entrances! 
12) Try becoming the same sweet girl people once knew me to be!
13) Take part in Mindblowing May, being hosted by my fellow blogger Ruhani.
14) Gather enough courage to be able to tolerate the blow that the Board results would throw toward me.
15) Visit some good Art Galleries. 
16) Complete my story of The Chronicles of April Levesque.
17) Spend more time with Aabhaas. And post about other of my men too! =D
18) Start learning how to show to your friends that you're proud of them, if they accomplish a milestone they set for themselves. Learn to be a bit more expressive. My words show negligible feelings as to what I actually sense inside of me!
19) Start cooking something new again and create new recipes and desserts, and shove it down the throat of my brother who's been bugging me since forever to cook something for him! 
20) Start visiting this temple in Green Park I used to go to! Visit a mosque once, and tour some beautiful Churches too.

I hope only for my aptitude and drawing part to to well for tomorrow. God help me with Math! Wish me luck, companeros!
I shall see you (most hopefully) regularly from tomorrow!
Till then, tener cuidado. Mantener a patadas en el culo! =P :*

Monday, 23 April 2012

LISTEN! STAY. OUT. OF. MY. BUSINESS.

Not really a Hola mood, companeros!

It's getting claustrophobic-ally disgusting for me to see the people whom I apparently considered "friends", let alone ignoring, disowning me for reasons they should probably have stayed out of. Or even if they didn't, for the sake of being "good friends" with the other person, they maybe forgot that any alliance is a two-way system, considering the other one too is human. Whatever happened to learning to listen to the other side of the story. Well just because I'm reputed to be the silent, "cocky bitch", doesn't mean I wouldn't be wanting to let the frustration of my side out! As much it doesn't hurt regarding the person who  rechristened me to be the "cocky bitch", it hurts that the people whom I REALLY loved from the deepest core of my heart, didn't even for once bother asking me at least about MY side of the mishaps. "I did this! You did that! I did that! You did this!"
I mean, really? Well, forget it! What's the point of even asking!
Actually, what the funny part turns out to be is that even after listening that a person has called to apparently sincerely apologize, you call her the cocky bitch, tell her that your memories of her disgust you? Why the fuck were you even hanging on in the first place if you were god damn having so much of issues with her?! You should have slapped her and walked over, then and there. Because newsflash sweetheart! Hanging around in bad times gives false hopes to the opposite person. Oh and yeah! The next time you think of sharing anything, mind you, ANYTHING with my girlfriends again, think twice! Because sweetheart, they've been aside me since TEN years. You haven't even known them for even six months. Not that we gossiped! That's something girls do, not me! I mean, really! 
First time somebody gives up on you in life, and you go bonkers. Love isn't when you're all up for avenging the other person, when they're no more with you. Love is keeping that person alive within yourself! And trying to exploit a girl's body, or maybe do it just for the sake of your perverted intercourse (oh, it's alright, everyone has it!), isn't the way to avenge anything. You might want to learn to take rejections frequently, well 'cause you'll be having a lot of them in your life ahead.
So I sincerely hope that you stay out of my life, out of my friends' life and loosen up your interest a bit in who can probably be the next "chuchcha" in my life; because honey, it certainly ain't your business! It still hurts me to see the supposed friends I made the way they're, and I've absolutely NO clue what you told them as to they couldn't even bother asking me once, but you know what? You're wrong. You're wrong about me losing out on my friends in the process of being the "kewl" one. My friends are by my side! And they know me, trust me, and for all you care, listen to me!
Oh, and yeah! Just a little pointer! Just remember that I always, always have the passwords to my best friend's account, so you might want to trust your own group the next time you feel like bitching or ranting about me!
Oh! And, you might want to drop off that I'm-being-purely-sweet-to-you fake attitude; sweetheart, it's visible!

I'm sorry for the gloomy post there companeros! But I had to take it out in some way, because I hell won't say it on that person's face knowing that it fucking doesn't make a difference to it, and being the silent, "cocky bitch" I'm, I've to be true to my nature! On second thoughts, if it ain't bothering that human, why is he even trying to harm me?!!? Seriously!

I'll see you around fellas!
Tener cuidado.

Saturday, 21 April 2012

It. Can. Only. Be. You.

Amarillo todas las....


Alrighty then! So I was simply conjuring up the fact that after I wrote for all the women in my life here, it'd be pretty unfair for me to leave out the men! No, I'm not listing them altogether. It'll be a one-one affair, companeros! Yeah, go on crying about not being able to celebrate any internationally recognised Men Day! Seriously, so much for the male chauvinistic attitude of your ancestors. Had we been treated a little more nicely, you would have been christened to the "Abla Mard" today.


And today's all the love goes to....*drumrolls*
Aabhaas Anand.
Ain't he just beautiful?!!? 



We started out as mere fifth and seventh graders who started knowing each other during some dance practices on the terrace of a mutual friend. And what can you really expect from kids our age then! The conventional leg-pulling spree (Psst, I was the dominant one.)
And one event led to another, one secret into another, a level of friendship to another deeper one, one fight to another. And we probably like any kids, literally barred each other. It seemed like a pretty sensible thing to do back then! Only if I knew what he would turn out to mean for me! 
It's him! Oh yes, he was this cute at some time!



January, 2010
"Are you eating this, or not?" "Akanksha, I just had lunch re. I'll explode if I eat any further.""Fine then, don't even ask for a bite of anything in the future." "Nautanki saali. La plate de!"
Little did I know that this conversation would lead into another and strengthen our bond like never before. And what more, we excel more than anyone as far as treating each other as best friends is concerned. 
It's us!!! Cute, no?




We'd misunderstood each other N number of times, tried hooking up each other with someone or the other, approvals of the other girl/guy being a nice person to be friends with, tried whooping the hell out the person's ass who thought of destructing the other, saved each other's ass on occasions. There's nothing we haven't done. There's nothing I haven't shared with him - from my friends to guys to my secret love for novel to my paintings to my guitar to even my fucking PMS! 
I still remember the first time he came up to me and told me that he's made this song which he desperately wanted me to listen. And then another and another and another.
An innocent thought struck me as to why was I being the first person most of the time to listen to all his rough cuts. And bang! Came the innocent reply, "You only smile when you hear them! It reminds me of Mom." I couldn't help myself but see how saturated his eyes grew at the answer and I ended up crying myself and hugging him anyway! 
Contrary to popular belief, he and not I, is the classic nautanki!



A self made man. He's killing every fibre in his body to realise Mom's dream. Never for a second does he allow her love instilled in him be altered. He has her courage, her strength, her bravery, her determination, her heart. 
Mom raised him well. He knows how to love everybody. But you still don't want to mess with him. 
I was so proud of him! 






He's the reason I believe in a guy-girl-friendship-not-necessarily-turns-into-love notion. The reason I'm at my random best. The reason I try cooking up something new every time I hit the kitchen. The reason I gorge on so much of food. The reason I'm compelled to believe even on my lowest days, that no matter what, he'll love me and be there irrespective of what I might turn into. 
Hadn't he showered all those surprises, I literally would have murdered him the other day.



Not many a times you see people coming to your place, gossiping with your Mom about you, calls your parents his parents while you do the same, barge into your room and exploit your cushions to the maximum, ruin your bed, throw away your books, take out your camera and demand you to dress up to go have dinner with them.
And talk of drinking together! 



And one fine day, he came up to me telling me that he's into this underground crew then known as the 'Lords of Streets'. I couldn't help but plunge myself onto him. I thought that never will he make me so proud again. But he proved me wrong again when I saw him performing at a cafe for the first time on Christmas! And now, nearly half the city knows him as A-Bazz (his stage name). 


He's my one-friend-family, my confidante, my saviour, my shining armour. 
You can find him at 
1) Reverbnation
2) Facebook and here too.


I won't be talking much about him today. His birthday will be up in a few months time so I apparently have to save the best for D-Day. I know you still won't go to Facebook and check the notification, and of course, you're mean. But I still love you from the deepest and bottom-most and the darkest core of my heart.
I love you, Doodieman.



Follows his first official video. I love this song and it's my personal favourite.


Aabhaas Anand a.k.a Doodieman, you're treasured, my boy. You know that! Why do I even bother telling you over and over! And go check Facebook, for Christ's sake! :*


See you fellas. I'll be back with more to share.
Till then, tener cuidado.
P.S. Please let me know some Dubstep artists, will you? I'm bored of listening to the conventional ones, and feel too lazy to search for the new ones!

Friday, 20 April 2012

The Chronicles of April Levesque...III

Hola compañeros!


So here's the third part of the series. Enjoy! You can read the previous parts here.


She extracted the heavy trolley bag from the deserted and dusty store room, which was more of a memory dump yard. She mopped up the filth enveloping the bag. She diminished the sliding door of the wardrobe to expose lavish gears. Her timber cubbyhole ranged from all brands of business suit to evening gowns to dresses to casual to swim-suits. A month! How many clothes would she cram under the Lycra dossier! Glaring the mile-long collection for a while, she plucked two evening gowns, two pairs of jeans, a couple of shorts, ample tees and shirts and a pair of swim-suit. She thought it to be enough. After all how much for sojourning alone! She felt proud to have remembered to pack the evening gowns. Surprise invitations, she thought, very much like Chief. She walked into the adjoining en suite and took out enough toiletries for herself. She unwillingly prisoned each item with care in the dossier. Why am I even going?, she thought, I can still refuse. She felt like being compelled by an undefinable force to go there. She wasn't wishing to push herself in a cauldron full of questions regarding him and some her own inner doubts. She got into bed early knowing the wee hours in which her flight was to take off. 


She sauntered towards the book store, hounded a couple of books and a few magazines. She thought of procuring a tour-guide too. But then she was hit by the realization that she wasn't new to the city. She knew Wels like the back of her hand. The sheer thought sent cold shivers down her spine. She sat at a coffee shop swallowing the contents of the novel she decided on declaiming first. She couldn't pull his face out of her mind. Their first encounter, so naive she'd been where men  were concerned, or was it just him. It wasn't that she never had seen princely men before. But he was the simply gorgeous. She reminisced how breathless she'd felt the first time she lay her eyes on him. Their conversation on their very first dinner was still ripe in her memory. The fact that she felt helpless and hysterical whenever she dreamt of him open-eyed, pushed her over the saturation echelon. Just when she was on the verge of crushing the frappé container to nothing, she heard the flight announcement coming to the glass's rescue. 


She'd never felt her nerves screeching before like this. She never vacillated before pulling the trigger. Why now?, she demanded. "Get over it! It's just a darn vacation!" She literally imploded her heart to stop thudding that hard, lest she'd explode. 
*
Eleven hours of non stop flying didn't do her back or sleep much justice. All she craved for was to reach her hotel and slaughter the mattress with her encumbrance. She gasped at the sudden look of the place. Was she going to be REALLY staying here? She gathered that the place seemed no less than a castle. On approaching the room, all she could acknowledge was the view from the ostentatious glass. She suddenly didn't feel that sleepy any more. She thought that it'd be best to escalate the town rather than her bed. She unpacked and entered her en suite and allowed the cold water to run down her slender body. Walking into the wardrobe, she picked out a pair of shorts and a shirt to go with it. She left her curls of her tresses bucketing for them to set naturally. Just a hint of perfume, her wallet, phone, camera and travel bag, and she was on her way to rock and roll. She had loved the lanes when she'd been here the last time. Photography was something that came naturally to her, and what more? She was absolutely loving each moment. She eyed an art gallery on the nose of the road. Quite unlike her, she wished to visit it. The gallery was ecstatic and so were the paintings. She witnessed a cluster of people. Cogitating that they might be acknowledging some genius work, she moved to join the herd. On nearing the area, she could hear a typical voice, a very typical voice! She felt her heart intimating to it. She knew that voice. The vibrations of it rung an alert in her mind. She saw him from a distance. Dumbstruck, she couldn't fathom her eyes. She couldn't convince her heart that it was him. She turned on a tiger's prowl and exited the place. She walked as far and as fast as she could. She didn't want to relive what she had a few moments ago. She only prayed that he didn't discern her. And she swore to herself. Leaning against the wall, she experienced her past, their past, running like a film in her mind. He cannot know. He shouldn't know!, she thought. She's left with some unanswered questions and unfulfilled vows. She scampered to the hotel pondering to the disbelief that some sleep might take things off her mind. She lay still, glaring the ceiling.

It had been a boiling night when she saw him. She was on her mission...

To be continued.

See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.

Monday, 9 April 2012

Woooohhoooooo!!!!!

Hola compañeros!


Alrighty then! I won my first blog award today, given to me by Ajay. Do check out his profile. He has some other amazing blogs too! Congratulations to him on his 200th blogpost. =)
And so according to the regime, I've to

  • Thank and link back the person who awarded me with it.(Which I did ^)
  • Share 7 things about yourself.
  • Award to 15 newly discovered great bloggers.
  • Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award.


The four commandments now,
1) Thank you Ajay! This really means a lot. It just tells you that people do read your work, and this is just a boost for striving to write better.
2) Seven things about myself.

  • I have very very funny and varied sort of nicknames which I'm timely rechristened with. Like really funny! I can't even write them.
  • I Worship Jackie Collins! She's, after Sidney Sheldon, THE best story-teller.
  • I'm a very irritable person. 
  • I was smiling like a lunatic when I read that Ajay gave me an award.
  • I'm currently reading Lucky by Jackie Collins.
  • I'm a huge Facebook and Blogspot addict. 
  • To know me better read my post, "Things No One Can Ever Make Out About Me"
3) Award to great bloggers.
Ruhani (Chub Chub)
Diwita
Priyanka Banerjee
BluBluBling
Sam B


4) Contact the bloggers, that they're awarded.
Will do soon! 


See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.

The Chronicles of April Levesque...II

Hola compañeros!

Alrighty then! This finally is the second instalment to a story that I started The Chronicles of April Levesque. So here it goes.

Driving back in her Carrera GT to her domicile. She ruminated that she would get a good night sleep after the longest possible time. Her work had never granted her a minute's respite from her mundane regime of her alter ego. April Levesque. She somehow was fond of the name. Chief always made sure to allot realistic self to each of his undercover proxy. After all so much for leading a fake, real lifestyle. She entered her penthouse. People had been dodgy about the kind of affluences they'd settled for their dear daughter in their will. Turning on the lights, she was exposed to the large void of a living room. She'd coveted to design it to the minimal. The monochromatic contemporary look of the house compelled people to question the fortune which might have been spent on it. As much comical this thought had been, she knew it had hardly cost even a small chunk of her savings. It was all about the choosing the right option. She bombarded her body with a splash of frosty water from the sprinkler. Cold water always worked wonders for her. She desiccated her damp locks, pulled out a night cream from the upper ledge and generously applied it across her oval visage and slender neck. She was pretty austere with each of her regimes. Maybe that's why people had a big-time dilemma believing that she was 38 years old. Entering her lavish kitchen, she opened up her fridge to hunt for some marinated meat, peppered it with a hint of olive oil and  exhorted it into the pre-heated oven- another reason why she was always fit. 


Settling herself onto her stratum, she induced her still cold body with the blanket and tried nodding off, but in vain. She'd been struggling to keep him at a distance from her mind since the moment Chief uttered about today being her toughest case. The Chief had been generous enough to give away a month's candour to her. She wasn't used to such elongated discontinuity from her work. And to top it up with more boredom, he booked her for a vacation in Innsbruck and Wels.Wels, the mere thought of it disrupted her peace of mind, sending frisson all through her body. That's exactly where her eightieth consignment was. That's when she'd met Him, and wafted an invitation to her real identity's revelation. It's a small town. He would easily sniff her out. Will she go? Would she ever admit to have once, and only once made a mistake in her life? That she was a vivacious patina flowing with the wind, when she'd met her?


To be continued.


See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.

Thursday, 5 April 2012

Till Death Do Us Apart.

Hola compañeros!


Again a part of BluBluBling's Awesome April. 


She had been devastated when the news of her grandparents' car crash had reached her. Even holding herself together throughout the funeral had been like the dawning of apocalypse upon her. After all, they were all she had, when her parents walked out on her when she was only two. She'd always been inquisitive about Grandma's diary. She always noticed a smile on her face, whenever she saw her filling its pages up. She randomly opened up a date when she had written about their sixty-fifth anniversary. She couldn't help herself and, 


February 14, 2012...
And then I heard a hullabaloo. My anaemic, archaic eyes rummaged for the clock on the wall exactly to my right. I couldn't find my monocle, and I strived to presume the time with my handicapped eyes. The baby of it was walking somewhere between two or three. Ah! It was the usual time for Henry to have rats rioting in his already-stuffed-with-dinner stomach. It's usually at these moments that he tries digging into a pool whole of desserts and chocolates. But it's all fine! As long as he attends to his daily regimes, he won't be under the risk of paying the hospital for their bed, for having gobbled just one extra crystal of sugar. The doctor had assured me too. I looked out towards the ostentatious piece of crystal to my left into the brunette of the night. The rain always made me euphoric. Henry and I had seen this chattel some thirty years ago. It had a peculiar equanimity, with the sunlight hiding behind its insignia giving it an ashen aura. It's so facetious that he always dredges up to buy me anything before our anniversary, but fails to wish for the same. He had even forgotten our fiftieth. Henry be-quested me with this house fifteen years back. I dwindled to understand the source from which he'd sponsored for it. All I could remember was we'd spent all the savings on Ted's and Jane's education. It had been then that it had been brought to my knowledge that he had initiated this secret savings for me right from our wedding day. I had my eyes saturated at that point. Reverting my attention from the brunette night back to the noise in the kitchen, it just wasn't coming to a halt. I wondered what was he up to? The clattering stopped. Relieved he would come back to warm me in the bed, I suddenly saw his candle-lit face through the flap of our room. He still pertained the look of a Greek God, the same when I first met him. A cake! I mean, a cake? 
"Happy anniversary, my love." Tears filled the cups of my lids. Never in these ages had he remembered to wish. "We're sixty five years of age now. Can you realise how old we're now?" And with that, he placed a platinum halo on my finger. He took me back in 1947, to The Rendezvous, where he'd pretty much proposed to me in an identical fashion. Oh, how he makes me feel all over young and regressive again. He makes me live the same old days, by everything he does. I was his flame, he had confessed to me, and he loved melting into me with each chunk of him that I incinerated. He makes me believe in fantasies again like I'm a schoolgirl. He makes me question the existence of such boundless exhilaration I experience with each passing second with him.


Jane smiled into nothingness, while still holding the leather chunk in her ricketing hands. She held the memoir close to her heart, and wept her heart out. She was happy for them. Alas, they were true to their vows. They loved each other till death did them part.


See you fellas. 
Till then, tener cuidado.

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

No One Else Comes Close To You..

Hola compañeros!


So this is a part of BluBluBling's Awesome April again.
And follows today's inspiration. 


They waited for a sign all the while. The admonishing never sufficed to push them up to that pretty level. Some two years surpassed. They could never drop themselves onto one mutual deduction. They never fought, they used to profess, it were just silly, little arbitration. Their friends thought otherwise. Foes alike. What was it that they were awaiting? Even after two years of mishaps more than memories, what could have possibly been their binding glue. Or were they postponing the obligatory deed, on a sign. Just like he had anticipated for a sign from her to know when to take their mania to the successive echelon. But this penultimate year, they considered the ugliest. The ultimate saw them part.


Even to this day, she can't stop rummaging the identical glare his eyes wore, when they used to clash with hers. She still yearns contemplating if at all he'll ever realize that he did a lot more to her than just mar her. She had wished for him to foresee the superior. 


He'd augured her to be married one fine day. He kept his capacity. And again she deems solitude. He filched her halo and set the semblance on someone's smidgen. Her iron now seems tenacious and resolute. She'd never envisaged it in her wildest of dreams. What did she expect? That he'd give her a sign? The same people who were the admiringly awed spectators of their bond, are now the pitiful keepsakes she has. People tell her to have a heart. But how can she, when he battered it into a million fragments each time he instilled despondence in her when he would walk out on her, stomping over her heart; articulately supervising the striping of each wedge of her fortitude, and hulling off the veins of it. She looks back, at times. She'd had ample signs to conclude that he was finally going to be cracking her up, bit by bit, piece by piece. After all so much for a guy with a magnificent player reputation. She should have pondered to that sign ages before he'd hunt her down with his womaniser instincts. Knowing each other since the time when being a kid almost seemed another era altogether, knowing every wee bit of fibre inside of their bodies wasn't a healthy route for a continual path of deeper friendship. Or maybe she did know them. She shows she's strong, she shows she's hard-headed. But all she could know of deep down was that she still lives in that little shelter in that gloomy, cloudy, obscure and an almost-plethora ambience when he'd confessed to her, sang to her her the-then favourite Backstreet Boys number with his guitar, and pulled her into the Scotch mist volley of the flooding hazes; where he'd for the first and ultimate moment compelled her to saturate herself in that drizzling, frosty February twilight.








See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.

Sunday, 1 April 2012

That Night.....

Hola compañeros!


Phew! THAT was now quite a long span for missing writing! And no, this isn't the second instalment to my last post. It's a part of BluBluBling's Awesome April. She's posted the following picture as an inspiration for today's post. 



That night. The water manipulated with her skin. Oh yes, it most certainly did! The sensation of the ice-cold water on the piquant ground made her feet linger with a tickle. All her life she'd been awaiting this moment. It seemed to her another era altogether. The obscurity of the night grew. She felt something under her feet. She just couldn't put her finger on what. She was eager to stay on the blistering ground which was laboriously fraternizing its own  heat as soon as the droplets started to fall on it like a flower of blessing. On this first night of the liberty she felt, the weather couldn't have been more reassuring than she'd anticipated it to be.


"She would never walk again", "Her legs are beyond fixation.", "It's a rare disease. I don't suppose you should be wasting you time or mine!" , "Please don't bother, she won't ever be able to do anything." There was no one in totality who might have held any sort of conviction in her, if not in the proficiency of the books weighing equivalent to themselves. She was exasperated of hearing it all her life. 'Polio Pig' was how the other children had addressed her around. It deprived her even of the much justified air she craved. She'd been jailed to her room for a delinquency she hadn't committed. She'd felt more of a felon in her own abode. She wanted to traverse through the weeds of happiness, envisage what it is to be unconstrained and autonomous. She had fret the fear of not being able dwell in a world which fulfilled themselves of nothing but false hopes and baseless conjecture. It was exceedingly uproarious, facetious and waggish to her when her Social Sciences teacher had talked of revolt, liberty, enthusiasm, respect and pride. She failed outstandingly each time whenever she'd hoped of acknowledging a soul who'd at the minimal knew the core sense of it. 


Her father had agitated a great deal for installing the cylindrical metals all across her haven. She'd kept a tight rein on everyone who'd made the feeblest of attempts to enter her den. She'd collapsed. Numerous times. Her unshapely crippled legs had steered the animal inside of her. She never stopped. Or rested. All she wanted was to prove to the doctors, who seemed to had unanimously decreed write her fate - a wrong fate, that their dear old colossal folios were unsuccessful of incorporating in them the inclination of hope.


She has scars. A lot of them. She proudly says if anyone asks about them, "My courage gave them to me!"
Her old folks could never have ensured a more courageous kid. She could do everything now. There was nothing that she'd put her hands on, and later back off. 
The dawn was all set to shine upon her.A slight curve occurred to her countenance, which had turned now into an ecstatic visage. And the globules surely tickled her soul. It made her feel alive. Even the acreage now had grown frosty with the water. If a few years back anyone would have asked her to define vanity, she'd be inept to it. But now, she can.


So that's all for now, companeros! I'll be back with either another Awesome April post or with the second instalment of 'The Chronicles Of April Levesque'
See you fellas.
Till then, tener cuidado.